Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Cypress Suite - Pts. I, II

I. Alone in Bed

I lay alone in bed one frosty night
And sleep refused to come; my thoughts were filled
With questions and such fascinating sights -
I saw a girl thrown from a car and killed
Become a bird and fly over the hills
And wondered where her disembodied soul
Had fled now that her corpse lay cold and still.
Is there a heaven as I have been told
Where angels sing with super-human skill?

The room was scarcely lit and icy blue
But my pupils had adjusted to the dark
And took in shifting shapes that without hue
Showed silhouetted outlines clearly marked.
Plastic sacks of dripping fluids, clinical and stark
Appeared where my stuffed animals had been
And machine-like breathing I remarked
Which seemed to originate from within;
My room had transformed into a NICU ward.

Then I noticed an inch-wide tube my throat
Accommodated; it inflated my chest
Like a balloon. A petroleum jelly coat
Was on my lips and I was only dressed
In a gown of lightweight cotton I confess.
But then I heard a lupine howl that called
Me from afar to end my rest.
And from my still position I rose tall
And saw my supine form receive its final blessing.

II. The Dead Forest

I slid the door of double-strength, clear glass
To quit those sterile quarters, and padded down
The cold tile hall whose other rooms I passed.
Then I stopped to take a look around
And found the scene had changed again without a sound.
I stood within an avenue whose trees
Had shed their leaves upon the snowy ground.
Old rusty cars and other junk were seized
By winter freeze and still as a ghost town.

Just then the wolf's cry called to me once more
And I perceived a blood trail in the snow.
I followed those red drops of fresh-shed gore
Down the avenue through the lonely hollow
Where ghosts appeared and time was slowed.
Cypress trees, green and majestic formed
A wall at this crossroads and proudly rose
From the dead earth. A monstrous hound
Blocked entry from the Cypress Grove below.